


Sin With Sebastian

by ArtisticBard (Kosho)



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Breaking Celibacy Vows, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fantasizing, Inspired by Music, Oaths & Vows, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sexual Fantasy, The Chantry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-18 14:53:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9389915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kosho/pseuds/ArtisticBard
Summary: *Inspired by Sin With Sebastian's Shut Up and Sleep With Me.





	1. Chapter 1

Sebastian had mostly enjoyed his short visit to Skyhold. Primarily, he had made the trip in the first place for the sake of seeing the Inquisitor for himself, said to be a powerful woman, and now, his ally. He hadn’t expected her to be so enticing, however. He had long since sworn off all physical temptations, he hadn’t so much as kissed since before he gave himself into chastity. That was a matter he took most seriously, and while even in his worst times when he actually  _ had _ engaged in less than moral activities, he couldn’t particularly say he ever had a fascination or interest in elven women. Something about her had caught his attention, though he had convinced himself that he could still be in her presence with the Maker giving him strength. 

 

Sebastian followed her quietly on her tour of the castle, an impressive place, even he had to admit. His thoughts were another matter, increasingly frustrating to him. 

 

“As you can see, this is where our wounded are treated. It is not much, but it is the most dedicated place anywhere nearby to receive medical care…” Ellas explained. “I am in the process of finding more spacious and proper accommodations, of course.”

 

He nodded slowly, politely, his arms folded loosely behind his back as he kept pace with her. This was important, if she was at his side in this alliance, it was good to learn what he could. He had intended to spot the weaknesses and identify where he might be able to contribute, to strengthen the Inquisition as a whole. Nothing was cooperating, his eyes now intently watching the gentle sway of her leather-clad hips, a host of situations playing through his mind, things he tried quite valiantly to put of out his mind. 

 

“This is the tavern, where everyone is free to unwind, and relax in their downtime...oh, but… I suppose you don’t drink, my apologies.” she murmured. 

 

He couldn’t care any less about the damned tavern right now. Her voice was only worsening matters for him, and he urgently wished she would shut up, so he might have a chance of purging the impure thoughts from his mind. 

 

_ “Sebastian, why don’t you come over here? It’s warmer by the fireplace…” her voice lingered in his mind. Almost like he wasn’t there, her slender fingers unbuttoned her vest slowly, the swell of her breasts exposed to him, his mouth dry, keenly aware of how sweet she smelled. “Or...if you prefer, we could...sit over here...on the bed…” her words slowing, enticing.  _

 

“Was there anywhere you were interested in seeing...I’m sorry, I just realized I’m not even sure how to properly address you.” she said, snapping him from his thoughts, only for a moment. 

 

_ I’d like to see your room, your bed, more specifically… _

 

“I am content to follow your lead at the moment. As for how to address me…” he paused, suddenly unsure, himself. Prince Vael, or even your highness was what decorum called for. “Call me Sebastian. I might ask what you prefer as well?” 

 

He discreetly bit the inside of his lip hard, his words spilling out in exactly the opposite of what he intended to say. He had been simply calling her Lady Inquisitor, but he had never met an Inquisitor before. He had been informed the last was about 800 years before, and thus he was unsure of formalities on the matter. 

 

“Ellas, or...if it’s more comfortable for you, Lavellan is fine. Inquisitor is so  _ formal _ .” she sighed. 

_ Her bright eyes slowly lifted, locking with his, lips twisting into a gentle smile.  He reached out, gripping her by the waist, pressing her tightly against the cold stone wall, uncaring that anyone might see them should they walk by. He lifted her, pleased when her legs wrapped his waist, grinding against her for relief, though the taut leather only worsened his frustration. ‘ _ Stop! _ ’ _ he urged his mind, his hands curling into tightly balled fists. 

 

“Ellas, that’s an interesting name. Rolls so easily on the tongue.” he commented, wishing he hadn’t after it left his mouth. 

 

“Well, thank you. Would you like to see the forge? Or perhaps the war room? I’m afraid you’ve seen everything else except, well  _ my quarters.” _ her words became almost faint at the end. 

 

The look on her face suggested she wasn’t sure what to do if he had insisted on seeing it. Clearly she wasn’t used to having company in her room then. Not a bad thing, perhaps she had also taken vows, ones that she was apparently having  _ no _ trouble keeping. Wait, no...she was Dalish, it was unlikely, though not impossible, that she was Andrastian. That revelation seemed to alter his thinking a little, though not out of conscious choice, he was still consciously trying to resist the lewd thoughts. It made him almost a little upset that he couldn’t shake the way he imagined her off. Without doing much of anything aside from simply looking every bit the divine messenger she was supposed to be, she had managed to provoke urges in him he had long forgotten. 

 

_ He stepped towards her like a beast on the prowl, watching the uncertain way she backed from him, her slim thighs bumping the edge of the bed, tumbling back gracelessly. Her cheeks flushed a pink reminiscent of the sky at sunset, a sweet color for a woman like her. Stepping closer to her, his knee pressed between her legs, leaning down over her. His tongue brushed warmly along the ridge of her ear, nipping the point gently. One hand slid against hers, fingers locking with hers, his other hand dipping under her shirt, eagerly brushing over her stiffening nipple. Her excited moan breaking past his ear in a way that set fire coursing through his blood.  _

 

Sebastian frowned deeply, darting a hand through his hair, ruffling it up. He squeezed his legs together tightly, trying to fend off his slowly hardening...ugh, he hated that that word emerged in his brain. Nearly missing a step on the way into the main hall, she spun with quick reflexes, her hand shooting out to support him, and he wished she hadn’t done that. His skin tingled where she touched his arm. Maker what she’d think of him if she knew what she was doing to him. He hated his weakness, cursed it with every breath, but he  _ had _ to have her. It was the last hope he had to get her off his mind, surely not even demons were this difficult to resist. 

 

“El...Lavellan, on second thought, I  _ would _ like to see what passes for the quarters of a woman such as yourself.” he said, as authoritatively as he could manage. 

 

She bit her lip lightly, pressing her fingertips together in front of her. She had to be questioning whether or not it was appropriate to refuse such a request. If he had been in her place, of course he’d wonder that too. He had no business in her room, and even less with the corrupt intentions he had for her, even he was wary, and it was his suggestion. 

 

“V...very well, Sebastian. If you would follow me this way.” she murmured. 

 

She lacked Hawke’s brash attitude, but perhaps that was half her appeal right there. She was nothing like that woman. He had already been regaled with tales of her firm, but fair brand of justice, often creative, but to those who justice demanded be punished, she had even beheaded personally. She was the kind of woman to be admired, and yet...that didn’t matter. It didn’t matter how clever she was, or how fair and righteous her judgments were, or even that she had sealed the Breach. It was completely shameful, but what mattered most at that moment was sating his curiosity... 


	2. Chapter 2

Having him in tow earned her some peculiar looks going through the hall towards her room, though he didn’t particularly care what they might think. That was a lie, he definitely cared what they thought, but it was hard enough to think for himself, let alone consider what others might be imagining. She glanced at him only for a moment before she pushed open the door, her pace slow through the short corridor to the actual door to her room. Not even a single guard posted anywhere near her room, that was good for now, but it seemed a major security risk not to properly guard the leader of the Inquisition even a little. Her hand paused on the door before she opened it slowly, as though still unsure what to think about having a guest in such a private, likely special place for her. Ellas walked up the stairs, her hips swaying easily as she did, Sebastian tried to be as quiet as he could, locking the door behind him before following. There was no doubt in his mind he was doing something wrong, the guilt was eating at him, but his needs were winning by a long shot. 

 

“This is it, I guess it probably isn’t much to a prince, but it’s plenty for me.” she said awkwardly. 

 

There were shelves of books, a balcony, desk, fireplace, all pretty standard for a room of anyone considered important. The bed though, that was a different story. The frame alone looked like it was made of gold, with velvet curtains tied down, presumably able to be untied for privacy. The mattress was adorned with the finest silk sheets and satin pillows, of which there were a number. This said everything. Whether as Herald or Inquisitor, whoever was in charge of decorating in here thought very highly of her, enough to want her to feel comfortable, to relax the burdens of leading. Then there was him, half-hard already at the thought of what he wished he could do to her, not more than three feet from him, lost in thought. Any apprehension she had about him being there had vanished, and he had it in his head to figure out just how she reacted at such a bold advance. 

 

“Lavellan…” he called, waiting for her to face him. 

 

She did too, readily, her head tilted to the side curiously. “Wh--” she began, her words falling away with his lips. 

 

She didn’t know what to do with her hands, held up, but frozen as though she wasn’t sure if she was supposed to push him away, or touch him. He put it together for her, grasping her hands and guiding them to his shoulders, backing her towards the bed impatiently, falling with her. Like it went in his mind, he slid his knee between her legs, needily pushing them apart, letting go of her in favor of seeing just how tight her pants were, whether he could reach under them or if he’d have to loosen them first. Of course, it had already been so long, the memory of the things he had done before reached him, reminding him of all the things he had given up. He pulled from her lips, tugging the strings, panting harshly in her ear. 

 

“Lose them....” he said, almost an order at this point. 

 

Her face flushed a brilliant red, and he could see she was about to ask questions, he didn’t want to talk right now. Capturing her lips again, her eyes closed tightly, her lips parting, an invitation to him. His tongue brushed her lower lip, dipping in, probing gently, pressing against her firmly. She reached down finally, obediently plucking the strings, arching against him to push them down, his hand immediately slipping into her smalls. Out of practice apparently didn’t mean ‘lost his touch’, she was already wet, and he hadn’t even properly gotten started. He nipped a path from her lip to her neck, up her ear and back down to her shoulder, cursing himself every step of the way. He should have been able to stop himself from getting even this far, and yet, even now that was far from his mind. Sitting up, he freed the snaps clasping her vest together, pushing it off her faster than he thought himself capable of moving. 

She arched again, reaching behind her back, her fingers moving deftly to unhook her bra. It made sense for women to wear them, but that had never once stopped them from being maddening barriers to what he wanted. Taking a breath, he followed the dark markings on her skin, cascading down her throat, blooming over her collarbone and around, ending squarely between her breasts. He couldn’t say that he knew the meaning, if any, behind the marks she bore, only that it seemed particularly inviting at that moment. Compared to his past encounters, her breasts weren’t quite as large as some, but they were nice, almost perfect, he might dare to say.  _ Almost. _ Bending lower, he kissed a trail down the center of her chest, past her abdomen, stopping just below her belly button, glancing up at her. Her legs pulled together slightly, but not tightly, she was not forbidding him, only silently telling him she was nervous about it. Biting her thigh, not hard, but enough to leave the imprint of his teeth on her skin, he lofted a brow curiously. 

 

“My lady, could it be that you’ve never…?” he asked, unable even now to put it completely into words. 

 

He pressed a finger in while awaiting her answer, hearing her quiet gasp of approval. She bit her lip, nodding, unsure if she could manage an answer like this. 

 

“So I see…” he said. 

 

He wanted more, and that need was only getting stronger the more he waited. Perhaps he wouldn’t linger as long as he initially intended, long enough to give her a taste of the things he could do to her, to make her want him as badly as he needed her. He carefully manuevered off the bed, kneeling down between her legs, bitterly thinking to himself he would need at least several more hours like this just asking for forgiveness. He pulled his hand back, guiding her legs to rest over his shoulders, kneading her hips in what he hoped she realized was a further attempt to help her relax. He barely touched her, his tongue lightly pressed to her, and she clenched the sheets. Out of nerves, or sensitivity, he couldn’t tell, tracing nonsensical patterns against her, indulging in her mewling cries. He held back a pleased grin when her hands threaded in his hair, tugging anxiously. It was like he could sense how close she was getting, faster than he expected, but then, he had only gone a matter of a years since he had last, she had gone her whole life. It was no surprise she was almost there with so little stimulation. She bucked against his mouth, her thighs shivering, a sharp gasp alerting him moments before he felt it. He was slow to move away, his hold on her shifting to her thighs, squeezing firmly, rising once more. 

 

Perhaps it was a sin, but presently, he was thanking the Maker that he had worn something more casual than his usual armor, quite protective, though it surely would have taken far too long to remove it. He must have broken a record in both speed and awkwardness in undressing, his hands fumbling on the buttons and strings holding him in, gracelessly heaping his clothes on the floor. She scuttled back further on the bed, and he busied himself untying the curtains, on the off chance someone came poking around looking for her. He was already sinning enough as it was without someone catching him in the act. Crawling over her, he leaned against her fully, burying his mouth against her neck once more, biting appreciatively. He gripped her legs once more, pulling them to rest around his waist, nearly growling in her ear. 

 

“This should be interesting, for both of us…” he sighed, nipping her lobe. 

 

It wasn’t just that this was his first time in a long time, but that she was so vastly different from any girl he had dallied with ever, as well as a first for her. In a strange way, that she was the Herald of Andraste somehow made it all worse, like he was defiling the Maker’s bride Herself in a sense. Guilt washed over him anew, and yet he still managed to ignore it. He aligned himself against her, slipping in with a rough thrust, not quite as gentle as he intended, but she managed with a whimper and a bite to her lips hard enough to leave an impression on them for a short time. She held onto his shoulders, her nails digging in harder the deeper he went, her chest jumping with heavy, clipped breaths. He wrapped an arm around her waist, his fingers brushing, lingering on her ass. She was hot and wet around him, and he knew the last of whatever shame he had was gone, tattered and shredded like the last remnants of her innocence. He had time to feel bad about that later, for now, it was more like a moral duty to finish what he started. Ellas writhed under him, her hips lifting to him now, any pain she might have felt little enough for her to desire more of him. He held onto her, rolling with her, amused by the sudden shift in her expression, one that said she had no idea what to do about this, and she felt self-conscious about it. He pulled her down closer, licking her ear slowly before he offered instruction. 

 

“Just pretend you’re on…” he paused, remembering that she was Dalish. “Pretend you’re riding a halla without a saddle or something.” 

 

She pressed her palms flat against his chest for support, shifting side to side, her tongue sweeping her lips nervously. How in all of Thedas did someone so shy manage the things he had heard she had done? She was a fierce but fair leader, but here, she was like lost. Holding her waist, he lifted her slowly, drawing her back down, showing her what he meant. He was giving her control of everything, how deep she wanted him, how hard, how fast, it was all up to her. He supposed it meant he was bowing to the mighty Inquisitor just like everyone else, except, at least for now, he was the only one to do so in this fashion. Sebastian let go of her little by little, until she was riding him on her own, rolling against him faster, her nails scraping at his chest. It stung, but at that particular instant, he hardly cared, let them scar if needed, it was a fitting punishment for this. 

 

He lifted into her rhythm, every part of him begging for relief. If not for his circumstances, he might even believe she was made for him, the sheathe to his sword, or more accurately, the quiver to his arrows. Still, he was asking far more than he should already. She moaned, a louder sound than she had made before, and there was an instant where he was certain he had heard someone walking the halls, but it was gone so quickly he wrote it off. It might have been flattering if he was sure they were completely alone, to make her make such indulgent noises. She leaned lower against him, moving his shaft inside her. This time, it was her who went for his lips, nibbling gently, tugging before her tongue invaded, unimpeded by her own taste marking his mouth. Her nipples were hard, pressed against his chest, eliciting a soft whine from her. 

 

He was nearing his limit, every muscle down his stomach and back flexing, shivering, pulling taut. He ran his fingers down her spin, calloused from years of drawing his bow, groaning against her lips, drawing her against him harder, faster, urging her to come for him again. The room was already full of the telltale ‘ _ aroma’ _ as it were, as if that wasn’t obvious enough what they were doing. She swayed side to side, half pulling away from him, overwhelmed by the intensity of her second orgasm. He definitely felt this one stronger, the way she fluttered against him, tightening and relaxing, dripping wet. Maker, she was enough to drive him mad, and she had no idea the kind of power that came with. He broke the kiss, trying to manage the words he was looking for. 

 

“Ell...Lav...I’m going to…” he rasped, his words failing. 

 

Sebastian pulled her tightly to him, growling his pleasure in the curve of her neck, a sigh of relief escaping with the last remnants of his energy. He lifted her off of him, pulling her to rest against him. Of course, he wanted to escape while he had the chance, but at the same time, he wasn’t the kind of man to begrudge her a bit to rest up before he would dress and leave. He didn’t even want to consider what he might have just done to her feelings, to say little of how awkward the remainder of his time in Skyhold would be. He heaved another, deep sigh, considering matters a little longer. He could stick to his plan and leave, return to his minor business here and go home when his inspections had been finished. Sebastian accidentally locked eyes with her, cursing to himself. Then again, he could stay here, rest up a bit and see if she might be interested in another go. He had crushed his vows this badly, what would it hurt to carry on a little longer before he begged the Maker’s forgiveness later? 


End file.
